George sat in the front of the shop, gazing at the few customers who still walked down the aisles. The bright flashing signs in the front window hadn't been changed in months, and the general atmosphere was silent, as if it was a library. George hated libraries. They were so dull. But he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it.

One year. Almost to the day, actually. He had been the sole owner of the store for a full year, and things weren't going well. It was failing, actually. But again, he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. He was losing Galleons faster than a Firebolt could shoot across a Quidditch field on a bright, sunny day, but he found himself not caring.

He felt the wind on his face from outside and looked up to see who had entered the shop. Angelina Johnson was marching straight towards him, not even pretending to just be an ordinary customer and look at the merchandise.

George wasn't surprised she was there. All his old school friends had dropped by at one time or another. All his family as well, sometimes in packs. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had tried to gang up on him just a few weeks ago.

He finished a sale with a young boy who seemed to not have told his parents he was in the shop, because he ran outside as quickly as his small legs could carry him. He waited silently for Angelina to reach him. "Honestly, George, what do you think you are doing?"

He looked up at her, unsmiling. "Yes, I'm doing fine Angelina, how are you? So nice of you to ask."

"George,"

"I'm running my shop, and if you have no intention of buying anything, I'll kindly ask you to leave."

"You're not running your shop, you're trying to make rent, and you're failing at that, too." She nearly shouted at him. A girl nearby was pretending to look at a punching telescope, but she was really watching the exchange.

George shook his head, "What did you come here to tell me, Angelina? That Fred wouldn't have wanted me to waste my life? That you miss him too? That it's time to move on? I've heard it all, Angelina."

"I came to tell you you're an idiot." She said with not a little malice, "Do you think Fred would be this miserable if he was in your place? No he wouldn't. He would honor you by working as hard as he could at what you both worked for your whole lives!"

She's wrong, a voice said in the back of his mind, He would be just as miserable as you are. But you would want to make him smile. You would want him to laugh again.

He opened his mouth to yell, but he stopped short. He was tired at being angry with the people who were only trying to help. "It's not just that I'm missing him, Angelina," he said it softly enough that even the girl who was watching them would need Extendable Ears to hear him, "I can't think of anything. No new products, no new promotions, nothing. It's like—" he paused, shook his head, and then forced himself to say it, "It's like Fred took all the ideas with him."

Angelina's face softened, but she didn't look worried about him, like all his other visitors did. Instead she reached into her robes, "I know," She said. She pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment and flattened it on the desk, "That's why I thought of something. I got the idea when my boss caught me talking about Quidditch with a friend instead of working. I thought, if only there was a way we could talk silently and look like we were working."

George frowned at her. Angelina wasn't necessarily strict about rule-following, but she never actually went out of her way to break rules either. She noticed his look, "My boss is a real jerk, I'm looking for a new job, but the point is, I thought of this." She indicated the paper, "I thought of those coins Hermione made us for the D.A., do you remember? If two people each had a piece of parchment like this, they could essentially pass notes to each other, without actually passing them to each other. They could even talk to other people who weren't even in the room, and they would look like they were just taking notes! Would've helped in History of Magic, don't you think?"

She smiled up at him to gage his reaction. He was dumbfounded. How had he and Fred never thought of this before? He picked up the piece of parchment. All that was written was Testing-Angelina Johnson, Is this thing working? He looked up at her and then back to the parchment, "You know," he said finally, "A simple charm to make the ink disappear when the paper gets too full, and maybe something to make it look like something else to anyone but the owners, and I think we have a product." Angelina was beaming at her and he felt his mouth twitch.

"I'll be expecting a percentage of the profits of course," She said standing up, "For the original idea. I think 10 percent will do.

"Five," George responded.

"Eight, and I won't go lower." George nodded his agreement.

Angelina turned around to leave the shop, but George stopped her, "Angelina!" She turned back around, "Thanks."

She smiled at him again, and he smiled back, "I'll come and drop by sometime soon, shall I?"

George nodded again, "How about we meet at the Leaky Cauldron for Lunch on Saturday. Just to catch up, you know?"

She nodded this time, "Sounds good."

George watched her open the door and leave. It took him a moment to realize the little girl was trying to get his attention so she could pay for the telescope.

Thanks, Fred.

Anytime.